


A Matter of Circumstance

by lost_in_dark_places



Series: The Asset, his Mission [6]
Category: Captain America (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies)
Genre: Brainwashed and Crazy Support Group, Bucky Barnes Feels, Clint Barton Is a Human Disaster, Clint and Bucky are Bros, Gen, He has Reasons, I promise, I'll fix it later, Natasha Feels, Natasha drags Clint along, Natasha helps herself by helping Bucky, Natasha's shitty past, POV Natasha Romanov, Team Building, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Tony Stark Is Also an Asshole, Tony is having an Asshole Day, With Mixed Results, no really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-03-17
Updated: 2015-03-17
Packaged: 2018-03-18 06:04:22
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,531
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3558857
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lost_in_dark_places/pseuds/lost_in_dark_places
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Steve doesn't understand what Bucky is going through, he can't. Natasha does.  She really, really does.  So would Clint, if only she could get the two in the same room. Maybe along the way she can wipe a little more red from her ledger.</p><p>Natasha convenes the Brainwashed and Crazy Support Group, there's a frilly apron scandal, Bucky offers the team The Very Best in Soviet Training, You Too Can Be A Deadly Assassin. </p><p>Natasha also remembers the first time she met the Winter Soldier, her training, and how it all went horribly wrong.</p><p>Chronology is tricky on this one, I'd say the present day starts before "The Asset, The Mission", but ends well after.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Matter of Circumstance

**Author's Note:**

> Standard disclaimers apply, I love the MCU, but I own no part of it.
> 
> Okay, Serious Face.  
> Trigger Warning for Natasha Flashbacks, involving every combination of children and violence. Nothing gets too graphic (I don't think, please, correct me if I'm wrong), but it's a pervasively abusive environment. Natasha is willing and able to kill at an age where this is neither normal or healthy, and eventually she is forced to watch Bucky being wiped.
> 
> For Natasha's training years I use the Agent Carter's Black Widow program (from episode 5, "The Iron Ceiling") as a reference. If you've seen the show you'll have a clearer idea of the kind of things she's dealing with. It's pretty awful, but it's all in the past, her present involves movie marathons with Bucky and Clint, and frilly apron jokes. 
> 
> Still, check your headspace before reading.
> 
> I still don't know Russian, instead Russian speech is denoted by __italicized english text between underscores__ , one can assume that Natalia is always thinking in Russian.

“The Truth is a matter of circumstance. It’s not all things, to all people, all the time,” She says, “And neither am I.”

_What do you want me to be?_

* * *

Natasha knows it bothers Steve to see Yasha—Bucky, but to her always Yasha—It hurts Steve to see how he flickers sometimes, gets lost between personae.

It hurts Steve because he has never been anyone but himself. Steve went through a transformation and became more, but more of himself. He has no idea how lucky he was.

He doesn’t know what it’s like when the goal of the transformation is not-you. Sometimes all they want is to strip the you out of you. They want a pretty doll, all hollowed out. They can put what ever they want inside, and dress it in pretty masks.

Natasha has been on her own for a while now, and sometimes she still can’t tell which of the masks are real. Maybe they all are. Maybe only the blankness is, inside. _Tabula rasa_ , waiting for someone to make a mark.

* * *

There was a girl once, one of many, and they were making her into a weapon. She was proud, one of a long line of weapons. She would serve her country well, just like the ones before.

The girls were not encouraged to tell stories, or to express much at all, but there was one story that was never discouraged, and so it was told most of all.

It was a story of a man. Once he was weak, but he was made strong. Once he was wounded, but he was made whole. All of his human failings had been taken away, and what was left was perfection. He was the best of the weapons, he was winter made flesh. And if the girls were very, very good, someday he would come to them and share some of that perfection.

Like all the girls Natalia swore to herself that she would be the best, that she would get to meet the Winter.

Unlike all the other girls, Natalia kept her promise.

* * *

 

They meet at a little cafe, and take a seat on the patio once they have their drinks.

“I don’t know why your so hot for me to meet your Soviet ex-boyfriend,” Clint whines. And Lies, but mostly whines.

“It wasn’t like that,” Natasha says, sipping her coffee, “Last time I knew him I was twelve, and he barely existed.”

“Please, you had the biggest assassin crush on the one-armed bandit,” Clint says, he starts pinching pieces off of his napkin to ball up and throw at people. Honestly, she can’t take him anywhere.

“I was twelve.” she said, which wasn't really a denial, and they both knew it, “Besides, Bucky Barnes was your hero too. Finally, something we have in common.”

“No. Okay, no.” he takes a shot, and leans over the table towards her, using his vehemence as camouflage, “My reasonable admiration for one of the best snipers in the European Theater is in no way comparable to your unnatural lust for Tall, Dark, and Blank-Eyed.”

“At least he doesn’t harass people in public for no reason.” Natasha says with a sweet smile.

“From what I hear, he doesn’t leave the house unless there’s a field assignment.” Clint says, “So, maybe he just hasn’t had a chance.” He throws another paper missile and looks in the opposite direction, face impassive behind his ridiculous mirrored lenses.

“You’re a menace,” Natasha says, “And a liar. You want to meet Bucky Barnes so bad it’s killing you.”

“I don’t know, first time I saw him he was full robot-mode then he went batshit rogue in the middle of the Op.” Clint says, “I’m not entirely sure meeting Bucky Barnes won’t kill me.”

“Some idiot American once told me, ‘Everybody has someone they’ll go rogue for, so really it’s not that big a deal.’” Natasha pointed out.

“Guy sounds like a dumbass, Nat, what kind of people have you been hanging out with?” the dumbass asks.

“You know, I ask myself that everyday.” she says, with a smile.

* * *

The first time she sees him, it is a demonstration.

He is unarmed and alone; his opponents have a variety of weapons and they are numerous.

He defeats them all. Disarming, and disabling first, then when the order is given he moves through the room like death itself.

All of this the stories prepared her for, but the stories never said that he is beautiful.

And he is. So beautiful.

After the demonstration it is announced that there will be an exercise in evasion techniques the next day, and no one makes any effort to disguise who the girls will be evading.

There is a ruthless culling as some girls lose focus, or panic, or otherwise break beneath the strain of Winter’s approach.

Natalia is not one of those girls.

* * *

It takes two more outings and over a month to convince Clint to visit Yasha with her. Natasha thinks she could have convinced him faster if a convenient (for him) mission hadn’t cropped up and kept him away for weeks, undoing her good work.

She actually knocks this time, since she’s bringing another guest. When no one answers she picks the lock anyway.

“Classy.” Clint says. Like he’s any better.

The smell of delicious cooking wafts out of the apartment as she chivvies Clint in. The Asset’s head swivels to take her in, and pauses momentarily at Clint, but he doesn’t leave the stove where he’s splitting his attention between two pots and a frying pan.

“Is he wearing—wait, **_Is that my apron?!”_**

Yasha looks down at himself in horror and drops the spoon he was holding to rip the apron off.

“Damnit, Nat-talia!” they say in almost perfect unison.

“Who would actually want that horror anyway?”

“Says the man that was just wearing it!”

“It’s all her fault, she takes advantage!” Yasha says, “Shit, the pork.” and then he is consumed entirely by attempting to save the meal. Natasha would help, but she laughing so hard she has tears in her eyes. Clint looks at her like she might be an imposter.

“You asked why,” she says, when she catches her breath, “This. This is why.”

Clint looks between her and the other assassin in the room, who was currently swearing a blue streak in multiple languages, and generally threatening their lives over his nearly ruined food.

“I guess this ain’t too horrible.” Clint says.

* * *

There is a maze beneath the Facility, it is never the same, it is always poorly lit; it is, in it’s entirety, a death trap.

The girls are released like rats, in groups, to scatter and prepare positions if they choose. The highest ranked are released last to counter their advantage. Natalia is in the very last group.

And after her, comes the cat. The Winter Soldier. Death himself.

But Natalia refuses to be prey.

She knows what she’s looking for: sometimes the walls are hollow or riddled with vents that reach into the ceilings, but there are always hidden ways. Places that let you observe, or stalk, or plan an ambush from an unexpected angle. She keeps moving and she keeps her eyes open, even as she hears cries from less fortunate girls.

When she finally finds a blind it’s occupied. She dispatches her rival quickly, so she doesn’t have time to alert the Soldier. She lies in wait, garrote in steady in her hands, her breath consciously even.

And she hears him stalking, finding prey. Prey just like her maybe, who thought they were too smart to die.

Then he enters her corridor.

She tenses.

Steady.

Steady.

St—she drops onto his shoulders, whipping the garrote around. He is surprised, he fails to block the wire and it snugs against his throat. She throws all her weight against it and he reaches up to pull her away.

He can’t.

He won’t.

“ __Stop!__ ” The Order crackles over the intercom. Natalia releases the wire and pulls it away. It cut into his neck. The stories are wrong: Winter can bleed, and not just ice.

His blood is as red as any she has ever seen.

The intercom crackles again, “ __Congratulations, Natalia, you are the first in many years to attack the Soldier, perhaps the first to do so with such success.__ ”

The praise should bring her joy and pride, but all she can think of his how scared his eyes are while he clutches his throat.

She would help him if she could, but she was never trained for that.

* * *

“Get out, Rogers, this is the monthly brainwashed and crazy support group, and you don’t qualify.” Clint says, perching on the back of the couch eating a bag of popcorn.

“You can’t kick me out of my own apartment.” Steve says.

“Oops, just did.” Clint throws a barrage of popcorn at his head, “Go get brainwashed, then we’ll let you in.”

“Don’t you even joke about that shit, Barton!” Yasha yells from his bedroom.

“Yeah, yeah, you’ll murder me and grind my body so fine Steve will never think to ask what’s in the chili.” Clint yells back.

“Jesus, Clint,” Steve begins—

“Damn, right I will, you know how many days we could live off your ass?” Yasha says coming down the hall.

“—Don’t give him ideas.” Steve finishes.

“Why the fuck is there popcorn on my floor?” Yasha asks, then, “Hey, Steve, how do you feel about chili?” Natasha couldn’t tell if this was a subtle threat or a genuine question.

“Bucky, no,” Steve says, apparently erring on the side of ‘threat’, “You know what? I am leaving. I’m going to go hang out with Sam and remember what normal feels like.”

“You wouldn’t know what normal was if it kicked you in the face,” Clint says—

“Probably has an’ got lost in the crowd.” Yasha interjects.

“—That crazy bastard flies around on flimsy-ass wings.” Clint finishes.

“Besides, guys with bird-themed call-names are all a bit fucked up.” Yasha adds.

“Says the guy who forgets where left his brain and runs around in frilly aprons.” Clint punctuates this with a few hurled kernels. Yasha snaps them from the air with a sour expression.

“You don’t have talon to perch with there, Oh-source-of-the-frilly-aprons, at least I don’t have a choice.” He says, then eats the popcorn.

“That was ONE flower-patterned apron,” Clint says—

“Yes, definitely leaving now,” Steve yells at Natasha, over the madness.

“—That really brought out my eyes—“

“Don’t let them kill anyone,” Steve says.

“—And you murdered her!”

“Or each other.” Steve adds as he runs out the door.

“Her?” Yasha asks.

Clint just crosses his arms and refuses to comment.

Yasha narrows his eyes in a way that tells Natasha that the subject is not closed, “Anyway, how did Natalia get pegged as the reasonable one?”

“I can’t imagine,” Natasha says, stealing Clint’s abandoned bag of popcorn.

“It’s because she’s quiet.” Clint says.

“Stupid.” Yasha says.

“Yeah, everyone knows you should beware the quiet ones.” Clint agrees.

“Damn Straight,” Yasha, the textbook silent assassin, agrees.

* * *

Natalia is ordered to report for extra training after the maze. She doesn’t know why but she wasn’t expecting Him. There is only one other instructor there, not enough to save her, even if they wanted to. His neck is still black and blue, though the cut is gone.

She stands at attention and tries to control her trembling.

 _“_Easy, little Spider._”_ Winter says, his voice low and battered, as he paces toward her. Natalia tries to stay still though her every cell wants to shrink and run.

“_ _You think I will be angry at you for this_ _?” He brings his metal hand up to his throat.

Natalia licks her lips and tries to speak, but she can not. She nods instead. His hand comes up beneath her chin slow and gentle. He tilts her head so she must meet his eyes.

“ __I will never be angry at you for surviving, Little Spider,_ _” He says, “_ _But your death I will never forgive._ _”

“_ _I don’t understand._ _” Natalia said, death is an inevitability at worst, occasionally a great honor.

“_ _I do not have so many students. To see them prosper is my greatest joy. To see them fail is devastation._ ” Winter says, tightening his grip on her chin, “_ _You must always survive, Natalia._ ” He releases her.

She feels a rush of warmth that he knows her name, that he cared to remember. She nods.

* * *

Clint is stretched out along the back of the couch gently snoring, and the latter half of The Bourne Ultimatum is playing. They’d spent most of the trilogy heckling the action scenes, and yelling brainwashing tips at poor confused Bourne. It was fun. But things were starting to wind down. Clint makes a surprisingly comfortable pillow if you know to avoid the hidden knives.

“You never took me up on my offer,” Yasha says, apropos of nothing.

“Hmm?” Natasha asks.

“I remember, I suggested we should start training again.” Yasha says, “Maybe Steve and Clint too. Sam, whatever other superheroes want in. We could make a production of it.”

“You Too, Can Be a Deadly Assassin!” Natasha says, mocking, “The Very Best in Soviet Training!”

“We are the best.” Yasha says, “And our people deserve the best. Besides,” he adds wistfully, “Maybe between the two of us we can finally beat the first lesson into Stevie’s thick skull.”

“_ _Always Survive__ ,” Natalia says.

“_ _Always Survive, Little Spider._ _” Winter agrees.

“I don’t think even we have much hope there, Yasha,” Natasha says, shaking off the nostalgia, “Steve’s skull is inhumanly thick.”

“Yeah,” he says, “But we can try.”

Natasha wonders again what it might be like to face Yasha again, in less-deadly circumstances. She’s torn.

“Well, I’ll think about it.” She says.

* * *

They leave them alone most times now.

It has been months, and Natalia has never felt so real, so alive in her life. They are sparring, full contact, full speed. Well, for her: Winter still holds back, but he is not merely a man, and he is still using deadly force.

Suddenly he stops, and Natalia barely pulls her kick in time. He looks confused, eyes unfocused, lips half shaping something.

“My name. . . .” he says in english. Natalia isn’t sure how to react. Is this a Test?

“My name is James?” Winter says, his eyes flicker to her. “Becca?”

“_ _I am Natalia_ _” Natalia says, “I do not know your name.” she spits her answers just in case. Winter is more forgiving of slips, and his corrections usually don’t hurt.

“James. . . .” he says again. His lips part as if there should be more, but nothing comes.

“Djeyms?” Natalia says, “_ _That is no proper name.__ ”

Winter’s eyes flicker again. “Yakov?” he offers.

“Yasha.” Natalia counters.

“_ _Bold, Little Spider,_ _” he says, and his smile is like the sun, “_ _I approve._ _” and then the smile disappears as if it never was.

“_ _The Asset is not assigned a name._ _” he says mechanically.

Natalia wants the smile back.

“_ _You are now, Yasha._ _” she says.

Yasha’s throat works. His eyes slide meaningfully to the door, and he shakes his head.

“_ _Just between us then._ _” Natalia says, careful to keep her voice low.

Yasha licks his lips, there’s a twitch, almost a smile. He nods.

“_ _You should not have pulled that kick, Natalia._ _” he says, refocusing, “_ _I taught you better._ _”

“_ _Perhaps you must teach me again, Yasha._ _” Natalia says.

It happens again, that half-second smile.

He assumes a ready stance and beckons, “_ _Come._ _”

* * *

“I just want to say, before this blows up in out faces, that this is a horrible idea.” Stark says as he and Banner walk into the gym.

Sam and Steve are warming up with a few laps, Clint is in the rafters somewhere. Yasha was supervising Natasha’s own routine, calling out positions with the same metronome precision as ever.

“Like that ever stopped you.” Banner says drily.

“I’m not stopped, am I stopping? No. I was just letting everyone know, this will end badly, and I called it.” Stark says.

“Well, that makes more sense then.” He says to Stark, then to Yasha, “To be clear, I’m here more as a spectator, I don’t usually. . . .things really will end badly if I’m involved.”

Yasha eyes him waving Natasha to rest, “You’re the doctor who goes green.” he says.

“I prefer Bruce, or Dr. Banner.” Banner says, with that self-depreciating shrug.

“Well, as much as I’d like to meet your other half, Bruce,” Yasha says, “today is not that day. Spectate all you want.”

He turns to Stark. “You’re the mouthy jerk who got Steve shot,” Yasha says.

Stark blinks, “And you’re the asshole that killed my parents.” he shoots back. Yasha goes still.

“Howard and Maria Stark,” Yasha says, “Mission: Complete.” Stark’s eyes go hollow and dark.

“Yeah, that would be them.” Stark says.

Yasha pales, “I—excuse me.” he says, and walks stiffly from the room.

“What, that’s it?” Stark sounds stunned.

“Fuck you, Stark.” Natasha says, before following Yasha.

“Dude, Dick move.” Clint says from somewhere, then the gym door swings shut.

Yasha is on his knees a few feet from the door. She hears the retching, and she goes to hold Yasha’s hair while he finishes up.

“He looks like his father,” Yasha says.

“I know.” Natasha strokes his hair.

“We were friends and then I just—“ he doubles over again.

“I know, shh.” Natasha says. Maybe it was better for her. She never had any friends to betray.

The gym door swings open, “You can’t tell me I don’t have a right to be pissed about this! This is my family we’re talking about! I’m sorry I couldn’t keep it civil around the guy who murdered them!” Stark yells, and then the door slams shut on any rebuttals. Yasha pushed his face into her lap as soon as it started, his hands are clutching her thighs hard enough to bruise. His whole body trembles.

Stark sees them and twitches. “Shit,” he says. He turns away from them with that manic energy he always exudes, “Shit. I am such a fucking asshole.” he mutters. He turns back.

“I—“ he gives Natasha a pleading look, then his face firms over, “I did say this was going to end badly.” and he leaves.

“It’s okay, Yasha.” Natasha says, because she has nothing to offer but platitudes.

* * *

The thing is, making a weapon out of a person is hard. You are walking a razor edge because excellence requires enough sense of self for pride, ambition, drive; yet too much of any of that is a disaster, your weapon might realize it doesn’t need you.

So they build you up in a certain doctrine; you are only allowed to take pride in certain things. You are encouraged to reach, to define yourself, but only in certain ways.

And when your self gets too big, they cut it down.

Natasha still doesn’t know how they found out. They dragged her out of bed and the brought her to the room. He looked like a discarded doll in that chair. He looked right at her, and he didn’t recognize her.

“_ _We could have him kill you now an he wouldn’t hesitate._ _” The instructor said, “_ _We would do so, except the skills we have taught you are too valuable for such waste. Instead, we will show you the cost of your nonsense.__ ”

She watched them push the guard into his mouth and press him back. She saw the panic in his face, his body, as the machine closed around his head.

They didn’t let her look away as he screamed and screamed.

When it was done she was lead away for her own Corrections, to reinforce the lessons.

The perfect weapon is hollow inside, and fills itself only with what it is given.

Love is for children, and no weapon is a child.

* * *

Yasha didn’t push for training again, but after a while Clint starts bringing it up. Sam insists he still wants to see Yasha in action, when Yasha wasn’t actively trying to kill him. Steve just smiles and says he’s not the one obsessed with “Maintenance” and he’s perfectly happy being lazy. Eventually Yasha gives in. A mass Email is sent.

Stark never shows. Natasha tells herself that she is neither surprised nor disappointed.

“_ _Shall we start with a demonstration, Natalia_ _?” Yasha asks her, once everyone who is going to come is assembled.

“_ _If you like, Yasha._ _” Natasha says.

“Uh-oh, they’re plotting in Russian,” Sam whispers to Steve, “How scared should I be?”

“They’re actually being very polite,” Clint says from somewhere.

Yasha smiles and arches a brow. He sets his stance and beckons her, “_ _Come._ _”

And then everything is motion and fury, full speed, full contact. Well, for her: Yasha is still holding back. . . .

It’s not the same as it used to be.

It’s so much better.

**Author's Note:**

> I have no idea what Clint was doing with a frilly floral apron, or why he's so devastated by it's-her-loss. File under "Shenanigans" and "Shit You Should Have Gotten Rid Of, But Didn't." Cross-reference "Clint Barton Is A Human Disaster."
> 
> Natasha stole it because Bucky just threw out her most recent offering and she didn't have time to go buy one. She also hoped that it would survive long enough for Clint to see Bucky in it. Natasha is a little bit evil, and she knows her friends very well.  
> ___________________
> 
> On a vaguely related note, I just re-watched the Winter Soldier and feel the need to point out that literally the only time Bucky speaks Russian is right after he engages Natasha at the bridge ("I have her. Find him." according to the subtitles), which I find hilarious and intensely satisfying, given my headcanon for this 'verse.
> 
>  _And then_ , the little voice in my says, _Natasha tries to rehash the very first trick she ever pulled on him. No wonder it didn't work so well._


End file.
